A Gift Of Seashells
by Jennifer Lynn Weston
Summary: Post AWE. Jack Sparrow has a modest proposal to make to the expectant Mrs. Turner. Soft and fluffy.


_'Pirates of the Caribbean' belongs to Disney._

xxx

"Mail call!" Gibbs announced cheerily, as he strode up the _Black Pearl's_ gangplank, towards the small waiting crowd. Not every member of the crew had fond acquaintances who knew what ship they sailed on, and/or who could write. But for those who did, mail delivery was an event as eagerly anticipated as it was rare. And so they'd postponed beginning their shore leave, until Gibbs' return from the _Pearl's_ 'letter drop', at the Green Anchor Tavern.

Joshamee handed out the several folded papers to expectant hands. Some recipients immediately tore them open and started scanning. Others stood by, waiting for their literate crew mates to finish their own missives and assist them with the reading.

Last of all, Gibbs ascended to the quarterdeck, where the Captain stood patiently beside the helm. With a flourish, the first mate handed over an elaborately sealed parchment.

"It's from the Pirate King herself, sir!" The elucidation was hardly necessary; Jack would have recognized that elegantly looped handwriting anywhere.

"Thank you, Mr. Gibbs." Sparrow grinned as he unfolded the parchment and started to read. At the third sentence down, his eyebrows made a major leap.

"Somethin' wrong, Cap'in?" Gibbs inquired. Jack deliberately turned the paper so his first mate could read for himself.

Joshamee was even more startled. "Saints an' Stars o' Glory!" he exclaimed, catching the attention of everybody on deck below. Jack shot him a stern look, and the first mate wisely clamped his mouth shut, though he rocked on his heels from the effort of keeping quiet.

"Is it fair tidings?" Marty inquired.

"That would be the traditional categorization fer this particular variety of news." Jack lifted the bit of parchment, and made the announcement in his best authoritative voice. "Our recent Pirate King, Mrs. Elizabeth Turner- formerly Miss Swann- is with child."

An excited buzz arose.

"Praise be, those two didn't waste nary a moment!"

"Should be a comely whelp, w' such parentage!"

"This be cause ta break out a' extra measure o' rum, Cap'in!"

Jack made reply to the last. "Aye, but 'tis only fair to wait 'til we've put to sea again, so the whole crew can partake." He removed his hat to merrily shoo the lot of them off his ship. "Now on your way ta get an early start on the celebratin', ya scurvy pack of bilge rats!"

The crew happily obeyed. Gibbs lingered, still bobbing delightedly.

"Looks like young Mr. Turner hain't a eunuch after all, eh?"

Jack waved a hand dismissively. "That was naught but a jest on my part, as I'm sure William always knew." His expression sobered. "It's ta be hoped Elizabeth can find some way ta get word to him about this."

Gibbs also got serious. "Aye. 'Tis rather a hardship fer a lass ta be without her man through such a time- gets mighty lonesome, I hear tell. But that's an unavoidable hazard of bein' a seafarer's wife."

"It'll be worse than the average fer Liz. 'Twill be most of ten years yet, before Will can come ashore." Captain Sparrow frowned thoughtfully, studying the lower half of the letter, wherein Elizabeth described the _Empress'_ upcoming itinerary. Coming to a decision, Jack nodded.

"As soon as we've concluded our business here, I shall pay the expectant Mrs. Turner a visit."

x

Jack grinned up from the longboat bench, as he was rowed towards the regal _Empress_. In contrast to the green-painted hull, the junk's sunlit red sails were almost too bright to look at. / _Ah, she be a right bonny ship. Though not as fair as her captain._ /

Elizabeth's beaming face- conspicuous among the stoic Asian visages lining the rail - had been smiling at him since the _Pearl_ first hove alongside. Sparrow was feeling just slightly apprehensive about viewing the length of her- seeing Lizzy all bloated and clumsy, like some pregnant wenches he'd observed, was not a thing he looked forward to. But to his relief, when Jack climbed the rope ladder onto the deck, Liz proved to be one of those women who wore the condition well. Though her stomach protruded noticeably between the panels of her brocade tunic, her steps were light and quick as she approached, extending a hand to her visitor.

"Welcome aboard the _Empress_, Captain Sparrow! It's wonderful to see you again!" There could be no doubt she meant it- her face was glowing almost as brightly as the sails.

"My liege!" Jack bestowed a gracious kiss to the back of her hand. "'Tis my even greater pleasure to see you again." The guards, sailors, and women servants standing on deck watched this exchange with approval. Sparrow relaxed.

Liz entwined her fingers between his, tugged gently towards the stairs. "Please do come up my cabin! There's rum for you there- I have a lot to tell you!" Jack didn't wait for a second invitation. One of the younger serving women fell into step behind them.

The captain's quarters were resplendent with embroidered silk, as with carved and painted wood, including the table and two chairs she led Jack to. The plate on the table contained what proved to be very tasty little steamed rolls. Sparrow had even higher appreciation for the good-quality rum the pretty Asian girl served to him. It was presented in an undersized glass, rather than a proper tankard, but he could accept that- this was not a situation where he ought to be gulping the stuff.

The serving girl filled Liz's glass with a greenish fruit drink. "Dr. Hui, my physician, has advised against any hard-alcohol consumption until after the baby is born," Liz explained.

"Humph. Remind me ta never get meself w' child," Sparrow joshed.

As they enjoyed the refreshments, Liz happily described her most recent voyages, her progress learning Cantonese, and her plans for the baby. "I haven't decided on a first name yet. 'William' is the obvious choice, if it's a boy. Though that might invite confusion about which 'Will' I'm talking about. On the other hand, I definitely want James, or Jamie, for the middle name."

Jack nodded approval. "'Can't say I ever regarded the late James Norrington a friend. But any man deserves commemoration who's died as courageously as you say he did." They were both silent a moment, recalling their quite different, equally regretful memories of the man. "I shouldn't of made him swap the decks with his wig," Jack admitted.

"I think we both wish we'd treated him with greater respect." Elizabeth somberly raised her drink. "May you receive more of it where you've gone to, James."

Jack followed suit. "Aye. Fair winds to you, Commodore." They drained their glasses. Nuan dutifully stepped forward to replenish both.

Elizabeth shook off her melancholy. "But enough about my business. What has the illustrious Captain Sparrow been up to? Still 'pillaging, plundering, rifling and looting'?"

"No more'en the usual amount." Jack glowered as he chewed another roll, pondering the difficulties of making the particular proposal he'd come here to make. / _Is there, in fact, any way to word it what can't be taken ta mean somethin' other 'en what's actually intended?_ /

"What's bothering you, Captain?"

"Much as it pains me ta admit it, I've come ta realize the moral philosophers got at least one thing right; a history of dishonesty- such as me own- really does carry it's own penalty. 'Makes it likely I'll be thought a liar, even when I'm tellin' the truth, an' very much want ta be believed."

The pirate king's eyebrows lifted. "If you're conveying that you want me to trust you now, but think I probably won't, that's actually as good a start as any. So, why don't you just tell me... whatever it is?" Liz leaned back in the colorful chair, folding arms over her ample belly.

Jack took another gulp and began. "I should give ye jus' a bit of background first. When I was a young whelp, I had an uncle Matt- that's short fer Matsendra. Me Mum's half-brother, he was. Not a large-size bloke, but handsome, fit an' real smart. I take after him that way. He made his livin' as a sailor- an ordinary honest one, so far as I've ever had reason ta believe. 'Worked out of the Thames port, mostly on freighters an' merchant vessels- sometimes several a year. 'Twas just his restless nature. But one habit of his was consistent; whenever he docked in London he'd pay Mum and me a visit. Showing up w' no notice, often enough, but 'twas always a glad occasion.

"I remember how he'd always greet Mum the same way, bestowin' a kiss on the cheek an' tell her how beautiful she looked- somethin' she didn't get ta hear much, what with me Da bein' absent most of the year. He'd always bring us presents from the far places he'd been to. A tin of spice or bit of fine fabric fer Mum, a toy fer me- usually a carved wooden boat. I once owned a whole little fleet of those, and loved 'em pretty near as much as my _Pearl_! And, fer the the both of us, there would always be a seashell. A whelk, a cowrie, a bright scallop. More'en likely, he just picked these up on the beaches he'd walked, but he'd never admit that. Uncle Matt would always spin us some yarn about acquiring 'em in a grand adventure. 'Twas from him that I learned the value of including a bit of exaggeration in a tale.

"An' it were his accounts of shipboard life what first sparked me own interest in seafarin'. My first recalled experience of bein' on a ship- if not my actual first time- was when he gave me a tour of the _Emily_- the big freighter he was crewin'. If it weren't fer him... well, I'd probably have gone ta sea in any case, but maybe wouldn't a got quite so early a start. Other than Mum, I owe more ta him than ta any other o' my small store of relatives."

Elizabeth was obviously charmed. "He sounds like somebody I'd be very pleased to meet. Do you still communicate with him?"

Jack shook his head ruefully. "His vessel went down in a typhoon, with all hands, when I was eleven."

Liz looked wounded. "I am sorry, Jack."

"'Tis a distant grief now, Liz," Jack assured, waving a hand. "Fer the most part my recollections of Uncle Matt are happy ones. The man gave me a big portion of my better whelphood memories."

"That's good to know." Elizabeth regarded Jack searchingly, though not unkindly. "You did say this was leading up to something."

Jack leaned forward, arms on his knees, his expression and tone completely serious. "I would very much like ta play a similar role in yer own life, Elizabeth. And in that of your whel... of your child, whether lad or lass. If you'd be willin' ta have me."

For a long moment, Liz studied him- with no more than marginal suspicion, he was encouraged to note. "Let me see if I understand you, Jack Sparrow. You wish to pay me regular visits, as a friend?"

"Aye. To the both of you. And ta William, too, once his servitude is up."

"So you are, in effect, offering to be my... acting stepbrother?"

"You could put it that way. I'd just thought you might, I mean... just about anybody likes familiar company now 'en then." Feeling uncharacteristically shy, Jack dropped his eyes. Had he said the wrong thing?

Apparently he hadn't. Liz's fair hand reached to cover his own. Their gazes met, hers just slightly mocking.

"There would have to be one stipulation, Mr. Sparrow. Once my 'whelp' is old enough to learn things, any teachings you wish to impart- about seafaring, weaponry, interpersonal relationships, or anything else- are to be discussed with me first."

Jack nodded somberly. "I shall do that, Liege."

"Then I accept your offer."

Sparrow brightened, like a small boy whose clumsy request for a treat has been granted. "You do?"

"We have an accord," the _Empress'_ captain announced, imperiously extending her other hand.

Jack shook it enthusiastically. Recalling what some of his handshakes had been worth in the past, he added, "You have Captain Jack Sparrow's personal promise of honorable conduct, Lizzy."

Elizabeth regarded her friend with real affection. "Where you really so convinced I wouldn't believe you?"

"Well, luv, considerin' certain events in our shared history..."

"I attribute a higher level of importance to more recent events." The woman ran a loving hand over her swollen abdomen. "Don't imagine I'm unaware, everything I have now I owe to you."

Jack took a quick glance about. "Oye, don't be sayin' that too loud, Lizzy. People are liable ta mistake your meaning."

They shared a laugh. Nuan joined in- Jack noted her voice had a beautiful silver-bell quality.

Suddenly recollecting, Sparrow reached into a jacket pocket and brought forth a fist-sized bundle of shiny maroon fabric. "Here, Liz! I brought this fer you."

Elizabeth took the offering, perceiving there was something hard but lightweight wrapped within. Setting the bundle on the table, she carefully unwound it. "Oho!" she exclaimed, as the object was revealed.

It was an ivory-colored seashell, long-spindled and festooned with parallel rows of thin, tapering spines, each delicately curved at the tip like long grass starting bending the wind.

"Jack, it's exquisite!" Liz turned the fragile-looking object over in her palms. She'd seen a few such shells in the curio cabinets of long-ago acquaintances, but none so flawless.

"It's called a 'venus comb murex'. 'Happened to acquire it the last time I were in Java. Do you like it?"

"Very much!" A vague frown creased Elizabeth's brow. "This isn't a bribe, is it?"

"It can hardly qualify as that, darlin', since I didn't present it to you 'til after you'd announced yer decision. Call it a preview of things ta come. And as a tribute, of a sort, to my Uncle Matt."

"Then I accept your gift, also." The pirate king smiled warmly. "I'd better put it in a safe place now- it would be a shame to break those spines. Be right back!"

Liz rose and made her way to the adjacent chamber, cradling the shell as though practicing for the baby. Jack grinned with relief, as he drained his glass for the second time. That negotiation had gone better than expected. If Elizabeth had professed more skepticism about his intent, he could hardly have blamed her.

_/ It does seem a bit uncharacteristic fer Jack Sparrow, eh? Takin' such pains to secure a place in the affections of a woman ta whom I can offer no more'en a brotherly hug or kiss. Not easy to explain my reasons, when I barely understand 'em meself...__ 'Tis related to that recently-referred-to incident, on the deck of the 'Flying Dutchman'. When I deliberately handed my chance for immortality over ta young William. I didn't do it fer him, as much as fer you, Lizzy.'Twas returning what you'd been robbed of- the one thing you loved most._

_/ An' I've discovered since; when a person makes that kind of a sacrifice fer somebody else, it makes the relationship precious. I didn't want you ta just fade into the distance afterwards, Liz. Not fer any length of time. If it were ta somehow come to a choice- an' even I have trouble believin' this, luv- I'd rather have you, Elizabeth bloody Turner, in me life, than every wench in Tortuga. Or in Singapore. /_

The latter locale came to mind as beautiful Nuan again refreshed his glass. This was truly commendable rum, he considered... though his impression might possibly be swayed by the elegant hand clasping the decanter. Jack let his eye stray from that hand to it's owner, and linger there. The young woman, noticing his interest, responded with a small but encouraging smile.

/ _An' it's not likely I'll ever have to make any such a choice, now is it? I can certainly have one platonic female friend an' still find all the pleasurable company I need elsewhere._ /

Jack raised his glass to the appreciative Asian girl, bestowing his trademark Charming Rogue smirk. "To meaningful relationships of all kinds, Miss Nuan."

/ _After all, I am, an' always will be, Captain Jack Sparrow!_ /

xxx

**FINIS**


End file.
